The phone next to us rang, causing us both to jump. Joanne let out a little squeak as she hurried to answer it.
And just like that, the moment passed.
I was left standing there, flowers in one hand, the other one braced against the table, just the same as it had been when Joanne had touched me.
It had been so simple and light and meaningless, but it had been enough to make my cock take notice, and enough to make every part of me want it to happen again.
There was no point in pretending that I didn’t want more. That I didn’t wantJoanne.
Chapter Twenty-Four - Brady
My eyelids fluttered but didn’t open. I turned over on the too-soft hotel mattress, and even through my half-asleep haze, I was painfully aware of my erection—currently pinned between the mattress and my stomach.
Just ignore it. Just go back to sleep. Try to remember that dream…
I kept my eyes shut tightly, willing myself to get back to the dream that had felt so real just a few moments before.
It had been about Joanne, of course.
Maybe because we’d worked the entire day practically side by side, or maybe because of the cute—almost secretive—looks she had shot me throughout the day. Meaningless looks, really. Just little glances. But the connection had felt very real.
Or maybe it had been that touch. That touch that had been so brief and innocent but had immediately caught my attention—and the attention of my still-rock-hard cock.
In my dream, there had been another touch, similar to the one before, but so much more.
In my dream, I had known what to say to make it okay, to make Joanne want to go further, lower, touching and groping and stroking until her soft, cool hand had wrapped around the hard, hot length of my shaft.
In my dream, it had felt like heaven.
I groaned, rolling over onto my back again so my own hand could snake down, over my stomach, my fingers tracing the lines of my abs the same way dream-Joanne’s hand had just done. The lower it had gone, the bolder she had become, making me moan when she had finally—finally—started those long, slow strokes that she had somehow known I loved.
It had been perfect; the way dreams always were.
My cock pulsed in my hand, and my hips thrust up to meet my strokes. I was fully awake now, fully aware that Joanne was nowhere near, but unwilling and unable to let go of the fantasy.
Not yet, anyway. Not until I’d found my release.
And that was the only thing left for me to do.
“Joanne,” I moaned, the name coming to my lips just as easily as the woman’s face had appeared in my dream.
The urgency I felt building inside me was mirrored in her look. That look that said she wanted me to come,neededit as much as I did. It was more than I could handle.
I pumped harder, faster against my fist as I kicked away the remaining covers. My hips bucked wildly. The bed springs groaned and creaked under my weight, but I barely noticed.
All I could focus on was that image of Joanne, ready, waiting,wanting.
“Oh, fuck,” I grunted, thrusting into the air and gasping for breath as the orgasm rushed through me and spilled out over my fist.
For several long seconds, I lay perfectly still, shivering slightly as my body finally registered the cool air from the room on my glistening skin. For just a moment, I could still see Joanne perfectly in my mind’s eye, but as the rush of my climax faded, so did the image.
Reluctantly, I opened my eyes with a sigh.
The fantasy was over, and all that was left was the evidence of my arousal, still streaked across my hand and stomach.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stumbled to the bathroom for a towel to clean the mess I’d made of myself.
But no matter how hot it had been, it was only a fantasy, and that’s all it could ever be.